Thursday, June 11, 2015

Adreyo Sen- A Poem

When she looks up, she can seeshe is the slightest, shyest weedin a garden of vivid redsand greens.

This knowledge does not pain her.

For if she looks down, as she knows,she will stand, awful, exposed,the tyrant of creatures yokedto scurry in her barren shade,slipping in the mud she's overthrown.

Better to be Beauty's humblest maid,its plain hanger-on, its unpromising jade,than the sad siren of the same despairshe presides over, that poisonous shadeflowing through her veinsand poisoning the trusting plains.